


A four-minute lifetime

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Kind of a fix-it except I might have made it worse, S3E3 Spoilers, Spoilers, Spoilers for His Last Vow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 16:00:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So that scene turned me into a little ball of pent-up emotion. I wouldn't even call this a story so much as me throwing words at my broken shipper heart and writing down the ones that stuck. I genuinely teared up writing this one.</p>
    </blockquote>





	A four-minute lifetime

**Author's Note:**

> So that scene turned me into a little ball of pent-up emotion. I wouldn't even call this a story so much as me throwing words at my broken shipper heart and writing down the ones that stuck. I genuinely teared up writing this one.

Sherlock stands on the runway and watches as the rest of his life begins to slip away. He will have six months of continued existence, at least, but that isn’t the same thing at all. Sherlock can see his life before him. It is standing opposite him and it is trying not to cry.

John called Sherlock wise, and brave, and the best man he’d ever known. The detective knows that he deserves to be called none of these things. He never understood how to feel- never understood how to express the emotions he had always tried so hard to control.

He is trying to express them now.

The one emotion that matters, the only thing he cares about and the only person he cares about, and he can’t do it. He starts; falters; lies. He can’t bring himself to do it.

John is still watching him.

Sherlock drinks in every detail, secure in the knowledge that he will never see this man again. Greying hair, but not old. An easy smile, but not happy. John Watson is a walking contradiction and Sherlock will never be able to solve him. Because now he’s leaving.

Except he still has a few precious seconds and before he can think any more he’s hugging John tightly and breathing, just breathing because there’s a ringing in his ears and tears in his eyes but John is there so maybe if he just keeps breathing then everything will be okay. Sobs are constricting his throat and he’s struggling for balance. It doesn’t matter. John, ever the soldier, is standing as straight and proud as he always has been. His arms are holding the heartbroken detective just loose enough for Sherlock to remember he is leaving but tightly enough that he can pretend he might stay.

He wants to stay.

They break apart, and Sherlock huffs out a shaky laugh through his tears. John smiles at him. There are tears in John’s eyes now as well, and that will never do. Though he knows it’s selfish, Sherlock doesn’t want his last memory of John to be of the soldier crying. A light brush of his thumb along the shorter man’s cheek and he is pulled in to a kiss. At first he expects it to be desperate, passionate, but the collision is more of a whisper than a bruise. Sealing a promise made long ago.

“Time to go, Sherlock.”

_You have to leave him. It will protect him in the end._

“I know.”

_I don’t want to._

“Goodbye, Sherlock.”

_I’ve lost you once before._

“Goodbye, John.”

_FlatmatebloggerfriendpartnerpuzzleJohn._  
 _I love you._  
 _I’m sorry._

Sherlock steps aboard the plane, and watches from the window as he leaves his life behind and begins merely existing. The words tumble from his lips, but by then it is too late. Four minutes too late. A lifetime.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, the characters aren't mine and I make no profit. Comments are always very welcome.


End file.
